


Eighth

by zenonaa



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, full class ensemble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“Ah! Okay, so before I say the next bit, brace yourself in case you feel nauseous... but perhaps we should hold hands the rest of the way?” he proposed. “It might be safer if we do... or at least quicker.”'Mikan takes Komaeda to see some fireworks.





	Eighth

**Author's Note:**

> for the talented evilmuffins!

Some years prior, Mikan read a study putting forth that a person should have at least eight meaningful touches a day. That included things like high fives, hugs, kisses and even just friendly pats on the back. Doing so came with a number of benefits such as a longer lifespan and increased happiness levels.

The sky deepened as evening drew on, not yet dark enough to hide the island in its void. Mikan gave a small smile, surveying the rest of the beach where everyone else was setting up a fireworks party just because they stumbled upon boxes of them, working together, laughing, bumping shoulders... while she stood off to the side not falling over. Teruteru manned the barbeque that crackled and sizzled, while Akane and Byakuya played the part in seeming like they were standing guard. Others arranged lanterns at regular intervals.

“Big Sis Mahiru!”

A sudden gust rushed past but nothing actually touched Mikan, though that didn’t stop her from letting rip a shriek and cowering. Nearby, Mahiru could do no more than stiffen before Hiyoko pounced on her, having sprinted out from some bushes with her orange kimono fluttering. Despite her small frame, Hiyoko had bounded into Mahiru with enough force that Mahiru had to strategically readjust her footing so as to not fall over. Hiyoko wrapped her limbs around Mahiru in a tight embrace, pressing close.

Apart from Hiyoko, all the girls present wore a pink kimono lent by Usami. A grin warmed Mahiru’s face as she took in what just happened.

“Good evening,” greeted Mahiru. Her eyes softened as she stroked Hiyoko’s head.

“Did you see?” Hiyoko asked, looking up at her excitedly. “I did my obi all by myself!”

Mahiru’s hand drew still.

“I did notice,” she replied. “I was beginning to wonder what was holding you up. Not that we would have started setting off the fireworks without you, but...”

She tilted her head to one side and shrugged, still smiling.

“... we don’t want to stay up too late, do we?”

“Ibuki wouldn’t mind,” piped up Ibuki from a short distance away, carrying a keg of age-appropriate beverage under one arm, and she pointed upward with her other hand. “When the sky is as dark as Gundam-chan’s eyeliner, the fireworks stand out like Byakuya-chan’s smile in a room of a thousand people.”

Gundam and Byakuya raised their eyebrows and exchanged puzzled looks, not sure whether to be offended or not. Meanwhile, Nekomaru scratched his nose and did a quick headcount. Seven girls wore pink kimonos, one wore orange and six guys donned blue.

“So... we’re just missing Kuzuryuu and Komaeda, are we?” said Nekomaru.

Mikan had been wondering when someone else would notice.

“I bumped into Kuzuryuu earlier,” Peko informed him, straddling the trunk of a palm tree as she tied up a pinata. “He has a stomach ache. I believe he has... diarrhea.”

The hesitation was either because she didn’t want to say something so intimate, or she was lying. Mikan squinted.

“Ah.” Nekomaru nodded and folded his arms over his chest. “I see! He’s too busy shitting!”

Almost everyone pulled a face. Mikan, however, as a nurse, didn’t so much as grimace. She clasped her hands together, staring up at Peko with wide eyes.

“If he’s sick, a-as a nurse, maybe I should go check on him...?” asked Mikan.

Peko turned to her sharply. “That’s not necessary. He will not want to be seen by anyone in such a pitiful state. And he’s definitely in his cottage, not lurking nearby so he can see the fireworks too.”

Silence passed like a gentle breeze. The sea lapped lazily at the sand. N o one spoke for a few seconds. If there was a tumbleweed, now would be the time it rolled by.

“... Okay,” said Haijime with his arms resting on his knees, squatting down with Kazuichi, surrounded by unlit fireworks. He flicked a wrist as he elevated one hand, eyeing Peko for a bit longer before turning his gaze away. “So that just leaves Komaeda, right?”

Everyone seemed to shift their weight. Glances darted about like mosquitos. Mikan recalled seeing him around lunchtime, where he appeared to be in high spirits during his aimless walk, but she didn’t get the chance to divulge this to everyone.

“I vote Thunder Thighs gets her,” Hiyoko piped up, no longer clinging to Mahiru. Her hands gripped her hips, and her head was held haughtily high. “I don’t feel safe knowing he might be lurking somewhere nearby like a perverted old man.”

Byakuya adjusted their glasses, and indeed, several of their classmates turned toward them, but Hiyoko wasn’t looking their way. When Mikan didn’t respond, Hiyoko pointed at her and sneered.

“Oi, Choppilocks! Tsum-icky! I’m talking to you!” 

Her voice whipped across Mikan, who twitched. 

“M-Me?” said Mikan with a limp finger directed toward herself.

“Uh, duh!” Hiyoko stuck her tongue out, pulling a stupid expression.

The rest of their class began nodding.

“I’m fine with that,” said Kazuichi.

“My condolences,” said Teruteru with his hands together in prayer.

“Thank you kindly!” said Sonia, waving.

Mikan’s head swayed from side-to-side as she tried to look at everyone in turn. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

“I don’t mind going,” said Byakuya, and they pushed up their glasses, shoulders back, but Mikan stepped forward and extended her arm.

“I-If everyone wants me to go, I’ll go!” she promised.

Byakuya quirked their brow. “Are you sure?”

After everyone had thanked and acknowledged her like that, she was. Mikan nodded and after a quick bow, she hurried off, hugging herself as the cool air grazed her cheeks.

In hindsight, she should have asked where they thought Nagito would be. The island boasted many areas, ranging from the open perimeter of sand to the nooks and crannies in the woodland. By now she had left behind the beach where all her friends waited with the firework display on standby, and tall trees flanked her, their branches creating a mesh that the sunset had to drizzle through, but she didn’t want to go back to ask without anything to show for it. 

They all depended on her. Even if they would probably forget about this good deed the next day, she couldn’t fail. That might lead to them shunning her.

Mikan thought he might be in his cottage, so she checked there first. Her footsteps creaked on wooden boards as she approached his door. The blinds on the windows never let much light in or out, so she couldn’t use them to deduce whether he was there or not. If it had been a person, she might have been able to read between the lines, but a building couldn’t hide secrets. People could only hide secrets in it.

She knocked. “Komaeda-san?” 

Something thumped on the other side, and the door opened soon after. Unlike the other guys, Nagito wasn’t wearing a blue kimono. Instead, he wore an oversized t-shirt, jacket and jeans.

“Ah! Tsumiki-san!” he greeted, beaming widely. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

Such a warm greeting made her tense. He even said her name too. Mikan placed a hand over her heart. She couldn’t forget her purpose for coming here and breathed.

“The fireworks party is about to begin,” she explained, loosely clutching at her kimono.

Nagito blinked. Realisation sparked in his cloudy eyes and he bonked himself on the head.

“Oh, yes! I completely forgot.” He flung out a laugh and reached his hand forward, grasping her shoulder. “It’s a good thing you reminded me. It totally slipped my mind. I’ll get ready right now. I won’t be a minute.”

His hand patted her a few times before he withdrew it and shut the door. 

Mikan stayed where she was and fidgeted. Her knees rubbed together as she waited. When she gulped, her saliva crackled in her throat. She could hear rustling and his feet plodding around the room as he got changed. A mental image of him doing so flashed in her mind, and she squeaked and covered her face with both hands.

Only when she saw the door open through the gaps between her fingers did Mikan resurface, and she tensed as she noticed his frown. Her insides quivered.

“Is something wrong?” she asked in a small voice, wringing her hands.

Nagito must have realised how stern his face seemed, because he winced out of it. He unfurled a grin and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah, no. I just didn’t expect you to still be here,” he said.

“Oh! Um...” She squirmed. “Sorry... you don’t have to walk back with me if you want.”

He swished his hand about. “No, it’s fine! I just figured you wouldn’t want to waste more time on me.”

Mikan straightened and raised her hands with her palms toward him. “It’s not a waste of time! I’m happy to... if you are, of course!”

Nagito stared for a few seconds then wheezed out laughter. The skin by his eyes crinkled.

“You are funny, Tsumiki-san,” he said. He patted her upper arm. “Come on, let’s get going.”

With him leading the way, they headed to the woods, and once there, he fell back so they walked side-by-side, following along the path that Mikan had taken on her way to the cottages. Moonlight filtered through the trees, and though it highlighted their silhouettes, it didn’t reach the sleet of night underfoot. They hobbled along uneven ground. The occasional twig cracked under their geta. 

She focused on staying beside him so as not to get lost, and as a result, didn’t pay much attention to her footing. 

One of her feet knocked into a partially embedded stone. Time froze, if only for a moment, and then sped by as Mikan shrieked and tipped forward, landing on her face.

If it hadn’t been dark, Nagito would have been presented with an unfortunate sight due to her short skirt.

“Tsumiki-san, are you okay?” he cried out, sounding concerned and not laughing.

Mikan didn’t reply right away, sprawled across knobbly dirt, and felt his hand seize her shoulder. She raised her head, letting him take hold of her other hand, and he helped her up. His hand slid from her shoulder to her waist as she shakily rose.

Her knees stung and her hands burned, but otherwise, “I’m fine.”

Though hard to see, Nagito cocked his head to one side.

“Are you sure? I’m not a nurse, but I’ve learned to take care of some of my own injuries,” he said, keeping his arm around her. “As you can imagine, I get my fair share of scrapes on my misadventures, but I could never be as capable as you!”

Nagito laughed. Mikan’s heart gave a flutter, but she shook her head.

“I don’t want to bother you,” she mumbled. She tightened her fists to try to numb the pain in them. “Besides, everyone is waiting for you...”

He gave a hum and took his arm off her. “In any case, I suppose it’d be easier if we were somewhere with more light.”

They resumed down the path, this time with Mikan behind Nagito. She could still feel where his arm had been slung over her - the gentle pressure, the tickle of fabric against her cheek and how her skin tingled like a rash. Nagito bobbed as he walked along, and then he stopped. Mikan almost barged into him.

“Komaeda-san?” she said, backing up a bit. His arms hung out awkwardly either side of him as he writhed his body, like he was hula hooping, staying in the same spot, and her brow creased more the longer she watched him.

“Ah, I’m sorry... I stepped into a rabbit hole or something and got my foot stuck,” he said in a light tone, as stark in contrast to his frustrated movements as his fluffy hair and sharp features. He bent down and tugged on his leg, but to no avail. 

Mikan positioned herself behind him, set her jaw and gripped his sides. She heaved with him, sliding her hands up to his armpits as they made further attempts, but after a few more lurches, he still hadn’t budged.

“It doesn’t look like I’ll be going anywhere,” he said, restraining a sigh. He craned his head and offered her a wane smile. “I guess you’ll have to go on without me. Hopefully, I will be able to hear the fireworks from here.”

Go? And leave someone like this? Helpless? Alone?

She screwed up her eyes with determination. Her chest swelled. “Let me try again...”

The next time she squeezed him, all the air in his lungs rushed out. With all her strength, she threw herself back, and she didn’t relent, not against the strain in her body or gravity or anything. With a pop, the two staggered backward together. Her arms flew outward, and Nagito fell onto his butt ahead of her, but she kept going. As much as her arms windmilled, she couldn’t have saved herself even if she tried, and she disappeared into some bushes with a scream.

Leaves whispered around her. Every movement, no matter how minimal, prompted them to snap at her. To prick at her. All she could see was the inky sky overhead with her head lolled back like it was, even when Nagito loomed over her. The sky consumed his silhouette, and Mikan only knew he was there because she felt him grasp her frail hand and lug her back to her feet.

She tottered, but he hadn’t let go of her so she didn’t fall over again. He tucked some hair behind her ear, perhaps unnecessarily.

“Thank you,” he said, brushing leaves off her. His brow furrowed. His hand wavered. “At this rate, we’ll be here all night.”

He tapped himself on the chin, then flicked his finger up.

“Ah! Okay, so before I say the next bit, brace yourself in case you feel nauseous... but perhaps we should hold hands the rest of the way?” he proposed. “It might be safer if we do... or at least quicker.”

Her stomach tossed over, but not because of nausea. She lit up and stumbled on her words. “S-Sure! If it’s okay with you, I mean...”

Then again, he had been the one to suggest it. Neither wanted to be the first to grab the hand of the other, but when neither seemed to plan to, they reached for each other at the same time. They paused, then fumbled for the other’s sweaty hand, and they continued on down the dirt path. Nature crunched beneath their feet, and for the rest of the journey, neither spoke, and neither of them died by the time they emerged from the woods. 

The rest of their class flecked the distance, and out in the open, she could see better. Only stars littered the sky, so the fireworks couldn’t have started yet.

After a couple more steps, Nagito turned to Mikan and raised his free hand.

Mikan stared at him.

“High five!” he said. The ends of her lips crept upward and she tapped her palm against his one. “Oh, by the way, how are you feeling? After that fall, I mean. I hope you didn’t hurt yourself badly.”

It took a moment for her to remember she had tripped up earlier.

“I’m fine!” she said, giggling nervously even though there was nothing funny. She flapped a hand, and she really was.

“That’s good,” he said with a smile. He didn’t look away. Neither did she.

Not for a good few seconds.

“Hey, they’re back!” Ibuki shouted some way away, stealing their eyes off each other. She thrashed her arm about but her finger stayed on them. “Ibuki thought she heard them.”

Hiyoko tipped her head back and groaned up at the sky. “Finally! Let’s set off some fireworks already!”

The beach rumbled with agreement. Very soon, everyone lost interest in the newcomers, focused on where Hajime and Kazuichi had prepared the first lot of fireworks. While they all gathered around, Mikan and Nagito watched the others from a distance away. She felt Nagito pull his hand away from hers and reluctantly let go of him.

Instead, to her surprise, he placed his hand on her shoulder and regarded her with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Tsumiki-san,” he said. She gazed back at him. “A week ago, you mentioned how a person should have at least eight meaningful touches a day. Some of the others laughed or purposely misunderstood you at the time, but it got me thinking. And I know you don’t get touched much, so on the way here, I gave you those touches.”

Mikan processed what he said with a blank expression. Her eyes widened and she jerked her head back. “H-Huh?”

Nagito couldn’t have. Surely.

He counted off his fingers. “A squeeze on the shoulder when you arrived at my cottage. A pat on your arm. Helping you up after you fell. Brushing leaves from your hair. Holding hands. A high five. A touch on your shoulder just then.”

She trembled and picked at her fingers, scrunching up her face as she recalled each instance he mentioned. He could have done it. He did.

“B-But that’s seven,” she said, looking down at her digits and wiggling them.

“I know.” 

Mikan lifted her eyes at his soft tone. Nagito’s eyes glinted. Then, without warning, he leaned in and pecked her cheek. Her breathing hitched, and he receded with a smirk.

“Now it’s eight,” he said, and her legs went weak. 

She wrapped her arms around herself and collapsed into a happy pile on the sand. His shocked face appeared over her.

“Tsumiki-san! Are you all right?” he asked.

Butterflies swirled overhead that only she could see. Beautiful, beautiful butterflies. Mikan cupped her cheek. 

“I am,” she said, grinning.

More than okay.


End file.
